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THOMAS K. SMIT.HY. 



LAYS AND LYRICS 



# 



BY 



THOMAS E. SMILEY 



THE 

Shhcg Press 

PUBLISHERS 
114 
FIFTH AVENUE 

XoiiDon NEW YORK /iftotitreal 





THF {.iBRARY OF 




CONGRESS, 




T.«n Cr.o,. .. Plcf.ived 




jljr. ■.37 




A CoPvpii^HT Ei-lT-RY 

CLASS CL-XXc. No. 






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Copyright, igo2, 


by 


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TO 

€titoin ^o^t, 2D.2D. 

WHO FILLS ABLY 

THE CHAIR OF LATIN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE 

AT DE PAUW UNIVERSITY, 

THIS BOOK 

IS DEDICATED BY THE 

AUTHOR. 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Thomas E. Smiley Frontispiece. 

White With May 17 / 

Thou Dream of Innocency 31 

The Lake Becalmed 63 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Harp-Strains— 

Adage, An 39 

Apple Blossoms ^"^ 

Aunt to Folks 13 

Babe and Brook 30 

Burns, Robert 34 

Children's Chorus, The 50 

Dainty Work 32 

Farewell Song 43 

Galveston "^^ 

Homer *^ 

Incompatibility 6'^ 

In Love or War 69 

Lafayette '^ 

Lake and Stone 63 

Lily Bells 61 

^ Love's Dilemma 27 

Lullaby 65 

Man With a Soul, The 78 

Ministry of Song H 

Mnemosyne 68 

74. 

Negation ** 

Oversoul, The ■ ^^ 

Parvula ' ^ 

Permutation 57 

Poet and Peasant 1^ 

Rebuked "^^ 

5 



6 Contents. 

Harp-Strains — ( Continued) . page 

Saint Cecilia 45 

Smack, The 37 

Sympathy 55 

Three Views 29 

To Francis Cochran 51 

To the Fairest 47 

Welcome Song 41 

Occasional Pieces— 

Accused 106 

April First 94 

Burns' Anniversary 91 

Goldenrod 101 

June's Day 96 

On July Fourth 99 

Per Centum 112 

St. Valentine's Day 88 

Spring's Pioneer 85 

Thanksgiving 107 

Thistledown 105 

Vacation 102 

Watchnight Toast 109 

Watchnighfc, 1900 110 

War Lyrics — 

After Defeat 126 

Apostrophe to Liberty Bell 117 

Baptism by Fire 119 

Boer's Rifle, The 131 

Hobson and his Men 128 

Modern Minotaur, The 123 

Return of Peace 136 

Thackeray's Tribute 131 

War in Natal 134 



Contents. 7 

Sonnets— p^ok 

Alaska's Gold 151 

Greatness 149 

On Art 141 

On Love— A Troubadour, 146 

Washington 150 

Count Leo Tolstoy 153 

Translations — 

Carpe Diem 158 

La Serenade 168 

Return of Spring 165 

Revellers, The 163 

To a Coquette 159 

To Liclnius 155 

Winter at Rome 161 



uxp Mxuius, 



Ministry of Songf, 



Come, singer, sing to me ! 

(Since I am weary of a world gone wrong) 

But sing no more tlie glad. 

Sweet songs of Arcadj, 

Beloved of yore: 

Now am I melanclioly-mad. 

And mirth is mockery, 

And joy exiled forevermore. 

Come, let your voice, subdued and sad, 

(Since one grows weary of a world gone wrong) 

Chant dirges, woeful threnodies, 

For happiness once had, 

Eor friendship spent, 

Eor love long ebbed to bitter lees: 

Worse and yet worse from bad 

Makes all life's journey ill-content. 

U 



12 Lays and Lyrics. 

For some surcease to pain 

And grief, occasioned by a world gone wrong, 

Come witli thy songs, O melodist ! 

They soothe and I wonld fain 

Harp supplement, 

Or sobbing violin assist, 

Or organ's dulcet strain. 

Bear unto them accomp'niment. 

O singer, cease thy lay! 

(Since it was not the world but I went wrong) 

Thy music brings a flood of tears 

That purge self love away; 

And now I see 

How idle, misery appears 

Whilst one hath yet to-day: 

Much good thy song hath done to me. 



Aunt to Folks^ 



Were mine tlie gift of eulogy, 
Were mine the sounding plirase, 

I'd ring the changes full and free 
On all the bells of praise. 

For golden bells of praise alone 

Might fitly tribute bring 
To her whose merits are, I own. 

Beyond my power to sing. 

Though not the same as yours, my dear, 
^o green and jealous flame 

Will sparkle warning when you hear 
Me speak this dear one's name. 



a 



Aunt Becky,'' though no aunt of mine, 

As mortal kinships go, 

Holds auntship by a right divine, 

As all her actions show. 

13 



14 Lays and Lyrics. 

For where affliction's sables fall 

Or suffering liatli need, 
Slie answers promptly sorrow's call 

As kindness is her creed. 

It glads her ev'ry step and act; 

It glows when she doth smile; 
It taught her hands the blessed tact 

Of doing things worth while. 

The house dog knows her for a friend; 

The cat purrs by her chair; 
Their ancient warfare is at end, 

While she sits knitting there. 

The neighbor children, not in vain, 
Come flocking to her knees; 

Hers are the avenues to gain 
Child hearts, the ways to please. 

Her presence is like soothing oil 

Upon life's troubled wave; 
She doles to sickness, care and toil 

The sympathy they crave. 



Aunt to Folks. ij 

'No web of magic dotli she weave; 

Her art, as you will find, 
Is just to enter lives and leave 

Her own sad life behind. 

Tbougb on ber way there fell the blight 

Of widowhood, she met 
And put life's irking cares to flight, 

Nor wasted vain regret. 

Lo, she for many years has trod 

Down Beulah's holy vale; 
She stoops in service unto God 

Where faithless feet would fail. 

More envied than a queenly crown 

Should be that sweet repose, 
Where self-forgetfulness doth drown 

All fate-inflicted woes. 

Let other women take to heart 

This lesson's wholesomeness ; 
Life's- light with woe need not depart, 

And even grief may bless. 



1 6 Lays and Lyrics. 

Just keep for sorrow inward moan, 
Endure ill-fortune's strokes, 

And win a glory all your own 
In being "aunt to folks." 




** White with May." 



Apple Blossoms* 



I passed the orchard, love, to-day 
And lo ! the trees are white with May ; 
As white to sight and sweet to scent. 
As when 'neath May moons, long ago, 
Their petals fell like fairy snow. 
And shed in falling rare perfumes 
About us, as we went. 
Enraptured, hand in hand. 
Thro' an enchanted lotus land 
Of love and apple blooms. 

And though our locks betimes shall show 

The bleaching years; yet all aglow. 

Within our hearts shall youth abide 

Perennially nor fail to link 

In holy wedlock, white and pink. 

The hoar of age with love's fresh hue. 

When standing side by side, 

With hands locked as of yore. 

We see the apple blooms once more. 

And feel that love holds true. 



17 



1 8 Lays and Lyrics. 



Poet and Peasants 



Upon a gentle knoll, 

CMoris, tlie slieplierdess, 
Sat leaning 'gainst the bole 

Of an old oak, and Imge^ 
Whose myriad leafiness 

Had given kind refuge 
And nesting space to birds 

Tor seasons numberless. 

But now their chorus fell 

Upon unheeding ears; 
Grown fainter, tinkling bells 

Betrayed her flock astray 
!N^or roused her usual fears : 

Some spell had rapt away 
Her soul from earth; her eyes 

Were dimmed with unwept tears. 



Poet and Peasant. 19 

'Nor needed it a seer 

To tell confusion's cause; 
Since it was all too clear 

That an unbidden guest, 
Defiant of all laws, 

Cupid, on fateful quest. 
Had found one victim more, 

And, without any pause, 

Had boldly dragged her on 

To his insatiate shrine. 
Beneath that tree Cleon, 

The poet, came that morn 
To write his songs divine, 

ISTow he was one foresworn 
Unto the Muse, and drunk 

With inspiration's wine. 



20 Lays and Lyrics. 

He saw a listener, 

And, seeing, soon began 
To read his songs to her — 

A trick that poets have — 
She turned, a form to scan 

So comely and so brave, 
That, like the God of song, 

Apollo, seemed this man. 

Then, lying at her feet; 

And, though he read some lines 
With poet lore replete. 

Of Pan, gay sylvan god, 
Or Bacchus and his vines, 

Or fancifully trod 
Erebus's lower depths, 

Where Plutus kept his mines. 



Poet and Peasant. 21 

Or touched soft, lighter chords 

Of poesy — the herds, 
The theme and emerald swards, 

The shepherd's happy lot, 
The minstrelsy of birds — 

'Twas plain his Muse did not 
Charm Chloris, but himself, 

More worshipful than words. 



22 Lays and Lyrics. 



Homen 



Long since the towers of Ilium fell; 

The grass is green above her ancient site, 
And kine feed where her lofty citadel 

Faced seaward, foeward in defiant might; 
From wars and broils, nnvexed and free, 
Flows calm Scamander to the sea. 

Gone, too, fair Helen, whose fatal dower 
Of beauty served to embroil her Hellas 

With the renowned Teucrian power. 
When Lord Menelaus grew jealous; 

Mount Ida yet o'erlooks that plain. 

But sees no more the guilty twain. 



Homer. 23 

For Helen was but a flower to fade; 

Thougli valor and its votaries did yearn 
Exalting higli, within Lis sombre sbade 

Death claimed her bloom for the sepulchral 
urn. 
Mad, wicked Troy ! mad foolish Greece ! 
To value Helen more than peace. 

Amidst a thousand other wars forgot 

Why is this siege remembered through the 
years ? 

All luminous from this historic spot, 

The glint of Hector's and Achilles' spears 

Dazzles the eye to-day; our ears 

Hear clashing shields and rival cheers. 

Gainst folly and the endless evil train 
That the returning heroes did betide — 

An Agamemnon by his false spouse slain, 
Ulysses lost and wand'ring driven wide — 

Offset this fact: Troy did inspire 

The first and greatest epic lyre. 



24 Lays and Lyrics. 

So all the actors in her drama old, 
Live from oblivion a ransomed prey, 

They did the deeds in deathless words enscrolled 
By Homer's muse ; great glory still have they, 

Partaking of the river's grace, 

The mountain's adamantine face. 

As springs the lily from her bed of mud. 
Foul origin for such an offspring fair; 

So from Troy's stagnant pools of wasted blood, 
Uprose that gift poetic, wondrous, rare; 

The hero singers need for theme; 

The singer heroes need for fame. 



The OvefsouL 



If I were blind and yon should steal 

Into my presence unaware 

There is a sense of flesh unknown, 

But deeper, higher, Heaven-sown, 

Would testify that you were there; 

A sense not of the senses ^ve. 

Acute and subtle and alive 

As they; magnetic far above; 

A prescience keen, elate. 

That would announce thee, O my love ! 

If I were deaf and you should speak 
In dulcet tones fond words of love, 
My heart would hasten to reply 
In suffused cheek, in kindling eye. 
Speech without words, a thing to prove 
My soul kept understanding clear. 
The royal right of souls, sans fear 
Of mishaps to its house of clay; 
This or that window barred 
Shall not debar the day. 



25 



26 Lays and Lyrics. 

If I were deaf and dumb, and blind, 
Dead in so much, as it might seem, 
Still outlet, inlet there, and road 
Whereby Omniscience lights the load; 
Whereby the vision and the dream 
Flow in; whereby the rainbow, sign 
Vouchsafed of benison benign, 
On Sorrow's background smiles at rest : 
For clay is plastic still to soul, 
Can be conformed to suit its guest. 



Love's Dilemma* 



To Battus, singer and herder of kine, 
'Midst vernal green came a dream divine; 
For Cnpid on direst mischief bent 
Dispatched two bolts at random aim; 
Like linked flames together they went, 
And played poor Battiis a sorry game. 

Two twinkling stars filled his sky with light; 
Two visions troubled his sleep by night; 
His waking thoughts were of two dear girls, 
And both than the world beside more fair; 
For one was Phyllis with jet-black curls, 
The other Daphne with golden hair. 

;N'ow Phyllis had money, lands, and flocks. 

But Daphne's sole dowry was golden locks; 

And Phyllis was cold and of haughty mieUj 

A wooer must fall at her royal feet; 

While Daphne ruled as a true love queen. 

With smiles like sunshine, warm and sweet. 

27 



28 Lays and Lyrics. 

Which of the two would he wish to choose ? 
Which from his life be content to lose? 
Thus doubt and question his wits perplexed, 
'Nor sage nor poet told what to do; 
Though he searched their wisdom greatly vexed, 
In vainest hope for the faintest clew. 

Then turned to question the swaying trees, 
The singing birds and the moaning breeze. 
The grasses and daisies and daffodils, 
The ripening grain and luscious fruit, 
Resounding rocks and murmuring rills, 
1^0 answer: [N'ature was likewise mute. 

Till summer and autumn suns were set. 
And wintry days found him "mooning" yet. 
Unable to choose, since he loved them both; 
Then pitiless Fate selected instead: 
For to Philemon, Phyllis gave her troth. 
While Daphne was unto Menalcas wed. 



Three Views* 



O Way of life ! If young feet, prone to stray, 
Far from the safe and beaten track, 
Shall wander over i^orny ground, 
Where sharp, uneven stones abound; 
Then to their cruel, bleeding anguish may 
Guardian angels haste and lead them back. 

O Wine of life, by young lips quickly quaffed ! 

Oftimes thy mounting, ruby lure 

Preludes the feverish sorrow, 

The burning heartache of the morrow: 

Instead may Power benign make of thy draught 

A sacred sacrament and consecration pure. 

O Dream of life and vision eloquent ! 

The harp Aeolian affords 

To wanton winds sweet utterance; 

Like them unseen, the soul doth chance 

To find a tuneful, proper instrument 

In passion's changing play of scales and chords. 

29 



30 Lays and Lyrics. 



Babe and Brook* 



Thou dream of innocency, quite 

As stainless as a star! 
Thou lily bud, all spotless white, 
Thou beam of sunshine and delight ! 

Comparison misjudges far 
And misses wide her aim. 
When thy perfections she would name. 

Thou likeness of Hilarity 

And merry-moving Mirth ! 
Thy gurgling laugh is full of glee; 
Thy soul is careless, fresh and free : 

The brook that bubbles up from earth 
And flows in gladsome song 
Hath ways that unto thee belong. 




L, 







\^,\ 



"Thou dream of Innocency ! " 



Babe and Brook. 31 

0, prattling babe, O, babbling brook ! 

In sportive elfin style, 
Ye both begin; bow fair ye look 
Like pictures in God's picture book! 

And yet tbis brooklet afterwbile 
Grown great, instead of play. 
Turns mill wheels on its seaward way; 

Thou, too, dear babe, mayst not remain 

In babyhood — must tread 
Perchance o'er paths of thorny pain. 
Where moil and toil and sweat and stain 

Mark pilgrimage; but have no dread. 
Trust God e'en to the end. 
And bear what burden He may send. 



32 Lays and Lyrics. 



Dainty Work. 



With zest, fair Flora's fingers ply 

Her needle and its thread of floss; 
Upon her pattern's tracery, 

The weaving lines increase criss-cross; 
The while beneath the gas jet's gleam 
I watch, and watching idly, dream. 

Of fruit or flowers with pleased mien, 

She notes the outlines grow apace; 
But better than their gorgeous sheen, 
The roseate hue upon her face 

Which mounts betraying coy surprise 
Beneath my fixed, ardent eyes. 



Dainty Work. 23 

I^ow will she deem it impudence, 

If, suppliant on bended knee, 
Bj love enboldened to advance, 
I stay her tireless industry. 

And wooing clasp the fairest hand 
That has such skill at its command? 

Or, laying down the dainty task. 

Will she bestow as gracious boon 
The kiss and troth I madly ask? 

Are both our hearts with love in tune? 
Do both our hearts beat love's cadence ? 
Or is her part coquettish pretence? 

To woo and win were truly well; 

To woo and fail? So harps a fear, 
Forbidding me to break the spell 

That makes remote a form so near. 
Tonight beneath the gas jet's gleam, 
I'll not tempt fate, but only dream. 



34 Lays and Lyrics. 



Robert Burns* 



With memories reverent and dear, 
With love and gratitude full clear, 

Each year great Scotia fondly turns 
To chant the praises of her seer, 

The ploughman, Robert Burns. 

But in his fame as well as she 
All other lands claim moiety; 

Their poets heap up votive urns, 
And vie in loving minstrelsy 

To honor Robert Burns. 

All pure and sparkling purls alqng 
His sweet and radiant stream of song; 

From mead and tarn, from heath and sky. 
Its currents swift and strong. 

Draw an unlimited supply. 



Robert Burns. 35 

"What store hath he of dainty woes ! 

To wounded hare that stains the snows, 

To mouse with nest by ploughshare rent, 
His kindly sympathy outgoes; 

His loving words are lent. 

He knew the daisy and the lark; 
And in his breast had felt the spark 

Of love; its flame that warms and sears; 
Its light that glows; its rayless dark; 

Its laughter and its tears. 

That larger love for all mankind, 
Beneficent, that seeks to find 

The springs of pity and to tell 
Oppression foul how worse than blind 

It is, was his as well. 

The high and low alike he'd greet. 
To every one full justice mete ; 

Base flattery ruled not his powers. 
Although his lips dropped honeys sweet 

As Pindar's fabled stores. 



^6 Lays and Lyrics. 

His share ran counter all tlie while 
To caste and wealth and lordly style; 

Since "man's a man/' it follows plain 
The cotter's hnt, the castled pile 

Should be a helpful twain. 

His life lies open in his verse; 

Its hopes, its visions, and its curse, 

Its record stained with frailty; 
Confessing drink and vices worse, 

He scornled hypocrisy. 

Long shall his songs of peerless worth 
Cheer up this humdrum, plodding earth. 

And make mankind's awakened heart 
Respond to duty, love or mirth, 

Or play the patriot's part. 



The Smack* 



Full snugly in a sheltered bay, 
A fishing smack at anchor lay 
As ended one long summer day. 

Her canvas wings of snowy white 
Caught full the sinking sunset bright, 
Athwart its path of golden light. 

Upon the hazy landward side, 
A shadow, falling far and wide. 
Oncoming darkness prophesied. 

Joint sharers in that peaceful scene 
Of even's golden hush serene, 
Three living figures there were seen. 

A youth and maid upon the bark 
Stood sharply outlined 'twixt the dark 
And light each supple form a mark, 



37 



38 Lays and Lyrics. 

A lucent pantomimic show 

To lier who watched the shadows go 

Against the fading heaven glow. 

From out her vantage ground of black 
She saw them lean and meet alack 
Together in a sweeter "smack." 

! Youthful swains ! Some leafy dale 
Far better will your trystings veil; 
Beware of bliss behind a sail! 



An Ada§:e* 

Who liatli not lieard of twain 
Among the knights of Charlemagne? 
One was Lord Roland hight; 
The other peerless was in might 
And deeds of chivalry, 
High over all that were 

In that great court 
Save Roland only; he 
Was dnbbed Count Oliver. 

Each one did love the same 

Fair damsel; her spell-binding name 

Was Honor. In her qnest 

They tilted, and if Roland best 

Were deemed one day, the next 

Was Oliver's award. 

Jealous for naught, 
"No shadows ever vexed 
Their love, nor burnings marred. 



39 



40 Lays and Lyrics. 

Worthy alike in War, 
Mimic or real, were tliey; afar 
Their fame kept spreading. ^'Sir 
A Eoland for your Oliver." 
Grew synonym full-fledged 
Tor apt retort in words 

As well as deeds, 
"When wits, Damascus-edged, 
Clashed in the lists like swords. 



Welcome Songf* 



(From the Lotos-eaters.) 
Hail, voyagers, to Lotos-land! 
O, cease to smite witli weary oar 
The hoary sea; drop anchor here; 
Furl sail and say farewell to Fear; 
Defying Poseidon no more, 
Abide in Lotos-land. 

Hail, voyagers, to Lotos-land, 
The land of ease, the land of dreams ! 
Here is no work, no aching toil, 
Ko weariness: the loamy soil 
IJntilled with gracious harvest teems. 
Come dwell in Lotos-land. 

Hail, voyagers, to Lotos-land! 

What charm of mild serenity 

Hath fastened here on summer's haze, 

We know not; but no change betrays 

To moodiness the witching sky 

Of wondrous Lotos-land. 

41 



42 Lays and Lyrics. 

Hail, voyagers, to Lotos-land! 
Like you before we found this bourne, 
A sport for wanton winds and waves, 
We rode tbe restless sea that laves 
All shores; we yearn not to return 
From happy Lotos-land. 

Hail, voyagers, to Lotos-land! 
Come leave your ship alone to rot, 
As we did ours ; come, take, and eat 
This creamy miraclie of meat 
And drink, this white Remember-not 
Of blissful Lotos-land. 

Hail, voyagers, to Lotos-land! 
'Tis ours — 'tis thine, since ye may share 
Its joy: careworn ye dreamless sleep, 
But here care-free all dream and steep 
Their souls in fadeless visions fair; 
Welcome to Lotos-land. 



Farewell Songf* 



(From Ulysses' men.) 
Fair haven, vanishing from sight, 

To dream of thee is well; 

To dream and waken ill. 
Our dream is o'er; unwelcome flight 
Divorces us from thy delight; 
Farewell then, happy isle, farewell. 

What has been now no more avails: 
We care not nor can care 
For war, or love, or home — 
What are they? Idle nursery tales — 
We've fed on joy that never fails. 
But now, O port of bliss, farewell. 



43 



44 Lays and Lyrics. 

Thou hast the lotos, Lethe's fruit; 

Ambrosia would pall 

The Gods once tasting it, 
While Praise with lips fast-closed is mute 
At excellence beyond dispute. 
Alas ! that we must say farewell. 

Henceforth though Fate's preventing hand 
Shall hold us back from thee, 
Our plea unto the G-ods 

Shall be to let us nightly land, 

Dream-guests on thy forbidden strand. 

happy isle, farewell, farewell! 



Saint Cecilia* 



Pipes and reeds o' Pan, 

Saint Cecilia began 

To amend you; 

Ransomed from the wild domain 

Of mad mirth and fancy vain, 

Heralds of the Lord Christ's reign, 

She did send you. 

When melodious organ waves 

Surge through choir and aisle and naves, 

Praise outpouring: 

Then is realized in part 

What Cecilia had in heart. 

To first place in tuneful art 

God restoring. 



45 



4-6 Lays and Lyrics. 

Toucliing deftly organ keys, 
Making solemn harmonies, 
Wholly given 

To the Christ; though yet below. 
The familiar pictures show 
Her with countenance aglow, 
Turned to Heaven. 

And as though they're wooed from thence, 

Cherubs, meeting sound's incense, 

Flying hover; 

Hov'ring scatter everywhere. 

At her feet and on her hair, 

Eden's roses, sweet and fair, 

From above her. 

Thine no more, O ! heathen creeds. 

They are Christ's — these pipes and reeds; 

Transformation 

Touched them with a touch divine. 

Changing sense to soul benign. 

With a wonder-working sign, 

Consecration. 



To the Fairest^ 

Blessings on Saint Valentine, 

Antidote for Cupid 
Holy is his glance benign, 

Cupid's blind and stupid. 

He is arcber i' tbe dark; 

Swift bis arrow flying. 
Sped by instinct, smote its mark — 

Left a victim sigbing. 

Sbowed be any rutb for pain? 

Mercy did vainly sue ; 
Twang ! His bowstring snapped again; 

Tben be bad smitten two ! 

Two and wbo could tbem restore? 

Since in eacb quiv'ring beart. 
Rankling, lacerating sore 

Remained a baleful dart. 

47 



48 Lays and Lyrics. 

Guess, my love, you could guess right 
If you shrink from guessing, 

Listen to whose woeful plight 
I have been confessing. 

For in place of victim one 
Hath this tale concealed me; 

Thee as number two foredone 
Valentine revealed me. 

Bless his saintship ! On whose day, 
(Doubtless he conniving) 

Blessed light beamed on my way. 
Happiness contriving. 

With as bold a front and fine 
As might be, fair mistress, 

Lo ! Myself as Valentine 
Came to thee in distress. 



To the Fairest. 49 

Came to proffer thee a heart, 

Cleft by Cupid cruel; 
Then thou showdst its counterpart, 

Wounded in love's duel. 

And these hearts that separate 

Had grown daily sorer; 
Thus exchanged to happy state. 

Found exchange restorer. 

"Like may cure, like," but ever 

Love unlikeliest strikes; 
Nature's ruling seems to sever. 

Mating seldom likes with likes. 



^o Lays and Lyrics. 

The Children's Chorus. 



Like songsters of the grove and field, 

Outpouring nature's melody 

In clearest, sweetest harmony; 
These winsome, childish voices yield 

A joyous choral strain, 

A wild and free refrain. 

High Hope inspires each treble note; 

Her horizon undimmed as yet 

By sorrow, failure, or regret. 
By haunting memories that float, 

Obscuring later years 

With rain of bitter tears. 

Sing, blithe young hearts, a merry lay ! 

Its power shall be a magic wand 

To waft us into fairyland; 
Since these glad heirs of Life's new day. 

Their forms, their songs, themselves, 

Suggest a race of elves. 



To Francis Cochran* 



(Obit June 1, 1900.) 
O, Friend ! whose lifeless form was laid 
Beneath the sod, in grave new-made, 
Bedewed with tears, bestrewn with flowers ! 
How art thou missed thro' dreary hours, 
Whose weary length drags on; 
Tho' happy days were wont to slip. 
Like moments in companionship, 

Ere thou wert gone. 

Thou wert my better supplement, 

My larger self; in books I spent 

Time overmuch, but thou didst read 

The brooks, the woods, the fields, the need 

And whim of bird and beast ; 

A helpful lore unmixed with gloom, 

Por melancholy found no room 

Within thy breast. 

51 



52 Lays and Lyrics. 

Thy tuneful, soulful, hearty laugh 
Was like a tonic and the half 
Of ills imaginary fled 
Where'er its hopeful rebuke spread. 
Voice of a peaceful heart, 
The sunshine's essence and the song's 
Of right to such as thee belongs 
!Nor can depart. 

Ascending far above the cloud, 
The eagle floats on pinions proud; 
His lofty flight, his aerial path, 
Escapes the hurricane's mad wrath : 
Some souls soar full as high, 
And stay where storm and fury cease 
In regions of eternal peace, 

God being nigh. 



To Francis Cochran. 53 

Thine the serene and placid brow 
Attained by such; the many plough 
Mad furrows by a roaring sea, 
Forgetting that their works shall be, 
Lost in the shifting sand, 
When from Eternity's great deeps, 
A mighty tide arising sweeps 

Time's narrow strand. 

Sweeps plough and ploughman both away. 
Though love and kindliness shall stay 
In kindred lives; and when these go, 
As go they must. Love's unchecked flow 
Shall transform other lives : 
From an unnoticed, humble spring. 
The river seaward traversing 

Its source derives. 



£4 Lays and Lyrics. 

A liarp string snaps — does music die? 
A pitclier's shattered fragments lie 
Beside a well; tlie wheel that drew 
The water hath been ruined too; 
The loosened silver chords, 
The breaking of the golden bowls — 
Shall these fill with despair our souls 
And smite like swords? 

For one thou didst not deem it so : 
Kemote beyond all present woe, 
Lies bliss; the two-fold mystery 
Of death and immortality 
Presents to simple trust 
"No sphinx-like queries; safely borne 
To God, returns the soul when shorn 
Of flesh and dust. 



Sympathy* 

Great joy was mine, too great, if pent within 
one breast: 

So seeking out a friend, my raptures were con- 
fessed ; 

Soon by his gracious words and beaming looks, 
I knew 

The joy so great for one was doubly so for two. 

Deep was my grief; a burden more than one 
might bear. 

So, lonely, passing from the beaten thorough- 
fare, . 

Some happy chance (or mayhap providential 

guide). 

Led me again to seek my comrade's side. 

55 



^6 Lays and Lyrics. 

Then woe found voice, bnt not in words did 

lie reply; 
His hand-clasp warm, his brimming eye did 

testify, 
Far better, fellowship; Lo from my grief -worn 

soul. 
His ready sympathy had lifted half its dole. 



Permutation^ 



Does tlie field tliat once was forest 
Miss the trees that erst grew high 
From her bosom? Offspring joining 
Earth their mother to the sky. 

E'ow the rains that flood the fallow 
Riot wanton in her spoil, 
Since the kindly roots have vanished 
That together held the soil. 

Once the leaves, that gave protection 
From the glaring summer snn, 
Lay a coat of many colors, 
When autumnal frosts had done. 

And that coat, a beggar's tatters, 
Piecemeal rent and rotten grew, 
When the wrath of winter pelted 
And the driving storm-blasts blew. 



57 



58 Lays and Lyrics. 

Gone these kindly benefactors; 
Gone witli sylvan bird and beast; 
Gone where went the dusky hunter, 
Where the wigwam's smoke hath ceased, 

Yet the field that once was forest 
Yields compliant unto change; 
Mourns not, neither maketh protest, 
Entering the new and strange. 

!N'ature's ministry is loving, 
N^ature's ways exceeding kind; 
Who beholds, nor learns this lesson^ 
Ingrate is to truth and blind. 

Though the trees depart, consider 
Greater good may come instead: 
Permutation, evolution. 
In each other's footsteps tread. 



Permutation. 59 

Law of change and law of progress — 
The Lawgiver makes these twain 
One in holy bonds of wedlock — 
Who would part, shall strive in vain. 

What is left this widowed fallow 
In the place of joys now fled? 
Blessing, more not less, creative; 
Labor, bringing forth of bread. 

For with spring come sunshine's kisses 
And the stimulating rain; 
Then up start the tender wheat blades 
That shall bye and bye bear grain. 

And this cumb'ring mass of corn-stalks, 
Last year's relics, day by day. 
Stripped and fallen, shall be shrouded, 
To the new life giving way. 



6o Lays and Lyrics. 

When that "new" hath served its purpose 
And is garnered in the bin; 
Then likewise its usless stubble 
To the thrifty grass gives in. 

So of corn and wheat and clover, 
Knows this field unending round, 
That man's toil may wring subsistence 
From its hard and stony ground. 

Furrow still shall follow furrow, 
Making ceaseless repetend; 
Crop shall be of crop successor, 
Till the course of time shall end. 

But the songs of birds shall liven 
Weary Labor's dreary round; 
Quails from corn and wheat shall whistle; 
Larks their piping flute-notes sound. 



Lily-BclIs* 

Lowly lillies of tlie valley, 

Bell-shaped, strung like strands of bells ! 

Though the dewdrops try to toll you, 

And the wind shall shake and roll you, 

Yet no chime melodic wells ; 

Bells are you in semblance only, 

Pendant, bell-shaped like the bells. 

It may be at Spring's gay nuptials, 
You are swung by fairy hands; 
It may be with joy you quiver. 
With mad ecstasy you shiver, 
Bursting from green swaddling bands; 
When your souls a-chaf e at fetters, 
God hath loosened with His hands. 



61 



62 Lays and Lyrics. 

Lowly lilies of the valley, 
Perfect forms and pearly tints ! 
N^ature's heart most precious holds you; 
l!Tature's loving arms enfold you — 
Care and pains, slie never stints; 
Till lier lowliest becometh 
Loveliest in form and tints. 





^ 

a^^^^" 




\\,:'* 



'A lake becalmed." 



Lake and Stone« 



There was a lake that lay becalmed 
And mirror-like one summer day; 
1^0 rippling surface laughed because 
1^0 breath of wind made pleasing play. 

Thus lay that mere, when from its marge, 
Some meditative idler threw, 
Far as his strength allowed, a stone, 
Which plashing, fell and passed from view. 

But where it fell, its impact drew 
The swirling waters round and round, 
In ever widening circles till 
Back to his feet, they did rebound. 

And if they reached the farther shore, 

His straining vision could not see; 

But still he felt they stirred the depth, 

Through all of its immensity. 

63 



64 Lays and Lyrics. 

So in the sea of Time, there falls, 
For good or ill, some throughtless cast 
Of ours; a deed once done stays not, 
But radiates in circles vast. 

And losing nauglit, returns at last, 
A benediction or a blow; 
A crown of joys mucb-multiplied. 
Or added weight of thorny woe. 

A deed returned, where did it go? 
The wings of Fancy, full and free, 
Alone might fan beside; for it 
Could go far as eternity. 

Between those dual tangencies. 
The doer's soul and God's great throne, 
What its wide round of influence 
Inclosed, remaineth yet unknown. 



Lullaby* 

Sleep, baby, sleep 

And cease to -.veep 1 
Too long the boiirs of play 
Have claimed tliee tbrongli the day; 
Too far tby toddling feet have sped, 
l^ow tuck them snug within the bed, 
And close each aching eye. 
While mother sings a lullaby. 
Lo ! O'er the brooding sky, 
Night sombre draweth nigh. 

And drowsy shadows creep: 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 

Dream, baby, dream ! 

The moonbeams stream, 
Within thy peaceful room. 
To chase away its gloom. 
Dream on nor wake their silver strands 
To grasp at vainly "with thy hands. 



65 



66 Lays and Lyrics. 

And puzzled grasp again; 
Or cry perchance, as if tliou'dst fain 
From heaven's higli domain, 
Have Luna captive ta'en 

To please thee with her beam. 

Dream, baby, dream. 

Sleep, baby, sleep! 
Into the deep 
Of distant Paradise, 
Thy spirit doth arise ; 
Thence earnest thou not long ago 
To quaif our cup of joy and woe; 
Thy eyelash holds a tear. 
Thy face a smile of cheer 
And both prove Heaven near. 
In dreams 'tis thine to hear 

Angelic pinions sweep 

Sleep, baby, sleep. 



Incompatibility* 



Once from on high, 
Fell a snowflake, dainty and white, 
Of that sisterhood pure 
Whose gray convent walls 
Are the clouds in the sky. 

Up from below, 
Where a blazing fire roared and raged. 
Sprang a spark furnace-born, 
With ire to consume 
Or ambition to glow. 

Wayfarers bold, 
They joined in a wedlock of woe; 
And the cloud-bom dissolved 
In a tear — the spark 
Became lifeless and cold. 

67 



68 Lays and Lyrics. 



Mnemosyne* 

The wilding blooms of Pleasure, plucked and 
worn, and pressed, 
Shall lie long buried 'twixt the leaves of Life's 
great tome. 

Till Memory, rosemary-crowned, shall come and 
wrest 
From Sorrow half her grievous toll by bring- 
ing home 

Again a sweetness rare and ravished from the 
bygone hour, 

The fainter perfumes of the faded rose and 
flower. 



In Love or Wa,u 



Two lovers charming Phyllis had; 

While one possessed her troth, 
The other was a doughty lad, 

To yield her very loth. 

'Now on her wedding day at morn, 
His love had reached that pass 

It needs must leave his life forlorn. 
If he should lose the lass. 

A ladder 'gainst her window made 
An entrance for romance; 

He planned a danng escapade, 
And she gave him the chance. 

A warrior, mighty in defence, 
Threw up intrenchments high. 

And planted batteries immense. 
And kept his powder dry; 



69 



yo Lays and Lyrics. 

And waited till liis foes should come, 
And smiled as who would say; 

^^They'd better never beat a drum 
Before me here at bay." 

But when those wily foes drew near, 
Instead of from the front, 

As he had recked, his flank and rear 
Were whelmed in battle's brunt. 

O would-be groom, thus robbed of bliss, 
And chief of victory reft ! 

For love and laurels gone amiss. 
This consolation's left. 

Some one must win and some one pay 
In ev'ry game of chance; 

He faces hazard who would play 
At battle or romance. 



Lafayette* 

Of years one hundred and a score, 
Have passed since to tliis western shore, 
And at a time of crying need, 
One came who proved a friend indeed. 

Afar from kindred and from France, 
For freedom couched his knightly lance, 
And in the lists of valor did 
Deeds fair as Bayard or the Cid. 

The Gaul's example, like a spur, 
Most potently a host did stir; 
Hope radiant again arose 
And led the van against the foes. 

]^ot then as when their cause was new 
And friendless save the far and few; 
For his devotion, nothing less. 
Had bridged the way unto success. 



71 



72 Lays and Lyrics. 

]^or wavered till the longed-for hour, 
When Yict'ry crowned the allied power. 
By all these memories sacred yet 
We warmly cherish Lafayette. 

His sonl so noble felt the shame 
And suffered when, in freedom's name, 
Fair France o'er gory pathways trod, 
Sanscnlotte: as it were sans God. 

'Not so America had fought; 
Through law her liberty was sought, 
Betwixt the Puritan and Gaul, 
The difference might well appal. 

But who that knows of France today 
Could truthfully refuse to say 
That she was guided on her course 
By power higher than man's force. 

And doubly blessed, he lived to see 

The fruitage fair of liberty 

In Europe as America; 

Tho' ripening slow with many a flaw. 



Lafayette. 73 

Yet nearer much than it might seem, 
The patriot^s hope, the sage's dream, 
The state ideal draweth on, 
The day when right is law must dawn. 

When on Paris the sun doth set 
It gilds the grave of Lafayette, 
And lingers in a halo warm 
As to caress that sleeping form. 

Soon o'er that long neglected spot 

Shall bloom a late "forget-me-not," 

A tardy trophy from that land 

Which grasped in his true friendship's hand. 

Lor we will rear a stately shaft. 
Embellished with the sculptor's craft; 
A work not boastful, simply just. 
The due of rev'rence to that dust. 

With immortelles and bay enscrolled, 
That shaft for epitaph should hold. 
One word with potency to wet 
All eyes that read it: "Lafayette." 



74 Lays and Lyrics. 



Negfation* 

Of a truth, fair worth is not conferred 
By the touch of a bishop's hand 
Or the girding of a knightly sword 
At a powerful king's command. 

For the inmost heart, by its craven work, 
May belie a knightly bearing; 
And perhaps the ugly sins still lurk 
'JSTeath the stole a priest is wearing. 



Parvula^ 



O, little things ! 
O, World of little things ! 
Life's top of joy is reached in this, 
The flying moment's transient bliss 
Of look, or smile, or touch, or kiss; 
High-prized when things have gone amiss. 

O Friend! 
Our lights by adverse winds long blown about, 
Some stronger gust shall suddenly blow out. 
And thus the end: 

A tear, a sigh, 

A pang, a moan, 

A gasp, a groan, 
And we shall die. 

O, little things! 

O, World of little things ! 

75 



76 Lays and Lyrics. 



Rebuked* 



Fair was my hope but overbold, 
Whilst greenness made it look askance. 
Into a craftman's shop I came, 
And self-important stayed his task; 
"O Graver, make some new device 
In bronze or stone, and set it high 
Where each that idly passes by 
Must pay it tribute by a glance; 
Then name it by name." 
Such the petition I did ask. 



Rebuked. 77 

Thus he: "Trust not the new and nice 
In bronze or stone, for all grows old; 
But if thou wouldst for aye endure 
Seek out that Graver who is sure, 
Who writes on hearts ; pay Him thy fee. 
Wouldst know His name and place ? 
Oft hast thou seen His shining face, 
Oft by His presence glad to be 
Enraptured; His seat is high 
His throne is life; His name is love." 



7 8 Lays and Lyrics. 



The Man with a Soul. 



All flesli is clay, but dare we classify 

Mankind as pottery? — Say porcelain is fine 
l^OY to the common earthenware deny 

Utility? To other grades, their good assign, 
But let the outcast lump, the broken sherd. 

The weakling and imperfect brother lie 
Where chance hath tumbled him, (a thing ab- 
surd 

To lift him higher or to heed his cry)? 

Conclusion just were men of clay alone, 

But lame forsooth since e'en the common clod, 
The peasant, leaning on his hoe, doth own 

Eanship to things divine ; is son of God 
By right of birth. Teach him to look at least 

To God; nor in thy blindness underrate 
His worth; for Love, which conquers e'en the 
beast, 

Can lift the man to manhood's high estate. 



Galveston^ 

I. 

Death made a league with the winds and the 
waves, 
The demons of air and of sea; 
The storm-blast and swift-mounting surges his 
slaves 
Right well were contented to be: 

Loud laughed he as onward he urged 
Their fury combined, till submerged 
Was the city that sat by the sea; 
The wind-smitten city, 
The wave-beaten city. 
The death-stricken city that sat by the sea. 



79 



8o Lays and Lyrics. 



a 7 



Tis slow and my waiting is long," quoth lie, 
"To garner by ones and by twos 
These mortals unwilling, right glad would they 
be 
To cheat even Death of his dues; 
So ho, for this merry chance, say I, 
When they by the thousands shall die; 
Worse than war the fury I loose 
In the pitiless storm, 
Elemental-born storm. 
Direful, woe-bringing storm: its terrors I 
choose." 

Destruction sans mercy abroad that night 

Left Galveston smitten, forlorn; 
Heart-rending and strange, her piteous plight 
As revealed by the light of morn: 
Ships that were wont to ride 
The Ocean in masterful pride 
Had been spewed on the land by its might ; 
All man thro' years had made. 
Sport of the wind low laid. 
Wrath of the sea unmade, that night as in 
scorn. 



Galveston. 8 1 

Death full triumpliant in carnival rides, 
^N^anglit sparing and not feeling mth; 
The sea slinks away, the tempest subsides, 
But ghoullike and ghastly forsooth 

He abides, devoid of a mask. 

In the city despoiled by his task; 
And gloating with glee by the sea, 

He sits in that city. 

That tempest-tossed city, 
That fate-ridden city, that mourns by the sea. 



82 Lays and Lyrics. 

II. 

What boots one fruitless victory, O sea? 
What profit hath thy deadly blast, O Wind? 
Since that the city doomed erst by thee 
Arises from her cumnlative woes unkind. 
She shakes the salt spray from her hair; 
She plucks the sea weeds from her dress; 
She lives and lades the balmy air 
And shames its lust to soberness 
With carols full of tenderness: 
From over land and over sea, 
Her refrain rings back merrily: 

"By the beating of the hammers 
And the buzzing of the saws, 

By the skill of man the master 
Who, though whelmed in fell disaster, 
Does not pause 
Eediviva Eesurgam." 



©aasiflwal 'guczs. 



83 



spring's Pioneer* 



Tlie primrose, being Spring's first born 

And modest, dons tbe paler gold 
That Winter sbows at eve or morn 

On her dull clouds; Thou mayst beliold 
And judge; seek out ber place of birtb 

Upon tbe sunward, sloping side 
Of bill or river bank, for Eartb 

Takes in tbis firstling, jealous pride. 

Tbere note tbe sunbeam's soft caress 

In love awakening nascent life; 
And see tbe Soutb wind's tenderness, 

Betrayed despite bis antic strife. 
For tbese bave kissed tbe frost away. 

And bade tbe tender sboot peep fortb; 
Tbese called its bloom to bless tbe day, 

Engarlanding Spring's cup of mirtb. 



85 



86 Lays and Lyrics. 

As yet clouds oft shut out the sun, 

And biting Northers, cold and keen, 
Beat back their rival who would shun 

Th' onslaught fierce; shivering is seen 
The tiny blossom, all forlorn, 

That meekly bows its head in fear, 
While hissing, howling loud in scorn, 

These blasts berate Spring's pioneer. 

But Spring in patience bides her time 

And wins because the season's tide 
Is hers: In majesty sublime 

Her forces forth to conquest ride; 
She sends her servants, rain and dew. 

Against the ISTorth wind's blust'ring ire; 
Such gentleness makes him to rue 

His rage, and quickly to retire. 



Spring's Pioneer. 87 

And then the trembling flowret lifts 

Once more her heaven-seeking face; 
Though coy, midst E'ature's choicest gifts 

She ranks, and many praise her grace. 
Among them, robin homeward bound 

From distant exile stops to chant 
E^ear by his repetend of sound, 

A cheerful, winged visitant. 

The artist knows the sacred thrill, 

Gazing upon a tint which lays 
Mellow relief on backgrounds chill 

And dull with neutral browns and grays ; 
The poet wand'ring by shall feel 

The fullness of a vision strong, 
Till sense intoxicate shall reel 

At beauty which surpasses song. 



88 Lays and Lyrics. 



St. Valentine's Day* 



Strangest of all saints to whom 

The calendar is consecrate, 

Good Bishop Valentine hath grown 

In times degenerate 

To fill a niche midway between 

A cnpid and a clown. 

Sometimes his text revealeth love 
With pairs of hearts conjoinedly; 
Far oftener to one it shows 
Himself as others see, 
Held up to sportive scorn, his trade, 
Or faults, or e'en his nose. 



St. Valentine's Day. 89 

Tlie ancients fabled that the birds 
Grew troubled in their tiny breasts, 
And felt vagne yearnings rising thence 
Toward their future nests, 
And, on this blithesome day, of mates 
Took final preference. 

Their merry youths and maidens coy 

Joined in a gala festal game 

Of troths, by drawing from an urn 

Each other's written name; 

Full oft to find the choice of chance 

Hymeneally turn. 

Then Christendom, in sober guise 

Accepting it, anew baptized 

To honor Valentine the Good, 

Then lately canonized, 

"Who, through the gates of martyrdom, 

Attained unto sainthood. 



90 Lays and Lyrics. 

!N'ow, if his soul doth ever gaze 
From battlements of bliss to earth, 
What deep disgust and sore chagrin 
Are his at mocking Mirth, 
At Folly rampant, changing him 
From saint to Harlequin ! 



Bufns^ Anniversary* 



^ow, Robert Burns, if thou wert here, 
(Perchance thy spirit hovers near) 
But here in presence too, I mean; 
Thou wouldst rejoice in such a scene; 
Thou wouldst be first on such a night 
To toast the highly favored wight, 
Whose birth and greatness, all agree, 
Deserved a niche in history, 
Though such a vantage point of fame 
The dead alone can safely claim. 

The living, like thyself, alas! 
May all their days obscurely pass 
And, hapless in the fight for bread. 
Fall faint and spent at last; the dead 
Fare better far: nor fortune's jest 
May taunting mock their placid rest, 
l^OY doubt inimical find room 
Within the refuge of the tomb. 



91 



92 Lays and Lyrics. 

Perhaps to lie within the shade, 
Oblivion's kindly hand hath made, 
With imperfection all erased, 
With faults and pettiness effaced — 
From the domain of want and care, 
And from the death-throes of despair. 
To walk the flawless realms of air. 
And in eternity to share 
Exemption from the dross and crime 
That so beset our shoals of Time; 
To view remote on heights serene 
One's, earthly labors' lowly scene — 
Such may have been thy humble dream, 
O Burns; not thine gross self-esteem. 



Burns' Anniversary. 93 

If Death might only turn to men 
Thy compeers from his clay again, 
^ot one wonld view with more amaze 
A century of lavish praise, 
The songs and merry-making fine, 
The incense offered on thy shrine 
Than thou: With maiden modesty 
And oft repeating; ^''Not for me" — 
So wouldst thou pass the fadeless wreath 
Passed up to thee from those beneath; 
But thou wouldst find at one acclaim, 
Resounding from the trump of fame, 
For once, beloved son of song. 
Mankind is right and thou art wrong. 



94 Lays and Lyrics. 



April First* 

Some cynics say 

That all men celebrate this day 

Each day they live: 

Such critics, Powers above, forgive ! 

"Live and let live." 

'Tis true no doubt 

That follies will crop out 

Among our wisest, best. 

So long ago (it is embalmed in jest) 

The J^emesis of fools confessed 

His task was hopeless; threw aside 

His gory club and died. 

Thenceforth unterrified, 

Mankind pursued illusion wide; 

In sport, in wealth, in fame, 

We seek the agile game, 

Kesolved to die or do. 



April First. 95 

From "view halloo," 

On in tlie universal chase 

We ride a breakneck pace; 

Allured by horns and hounds, 

We scoff at bounds; 

Spectators of the maddened rout 

Ofttimes cry out 

Reproof or warning; still no fear 

Such huntsmen can deter; 

But as we speed at will. 

There comes from wood and hill 

An echo of a mocking lay, 

A memory of April day. 

To haunt our wanton way: 

It rings from cliff and vale, 

As in salute, "All fools, all hail." 



96 Lays and Lyrics. 

June's Day* 

I.— MOE^. 
Wlien Aurora, in the morning, 
Flecks tlie east with rosy light, 
And her hands, far reaching upward, 
Rend away the pall of night ; 
Then the serried stars, grown dimmer, 
Touched by sunshine, fade from sight. 

Then Apollo's lambent torches 
Fire the clouds from fold to fold, 
Till the erstwhile leaden masses 
Glow with Heaven's fretted gold; 
And the beaded dew like diamonds 
Sparkles over field and wold. 

Earth the Titan, at the dawning. 
Stirs refreshened for the strife; 
Rouses, waiving dreamy fancies, 
For the sober work of life; 
Sends his children marching, flying, 
To shrill notes from Duty's fife. 



June's Day. 97 

Blades of corn and heads of clover, 
'^eath the noontide's fierce fervor, 
Shrinking thirstily droop over; 
As if longing to recover 
All the moist and blissful coolness 
Of a morning gone forever. 

Then the songsters cease their singing 
And the bee seems half afraid 
To vex aether with his humming; 
Then coy Dryads woo the shade. 
Their gay rout and frolics mad 
By the languorous heat delayed. 

Pan, their patron and protector, 
Pipes a pleasing roundelay; 
Lulls to rest their wearied spirits. 
Charming troublous care away : 
Such the period of siesta. 
And the reverie of mid-day. 



98 Lays and Lyrics. 

III.— EYEE". 

See tlie squadrons, in tlie gloaming, 
Turning from life's battle home; 
Eor tlie victor, as the vanquished. 
Gladly unto truce is come ; 
Stilled the cannon and the conflict, 
Ceased the rattle of the drum. 

Soon day's pomp and pageant shrouded 
Lie in brooding night's embrace ; 
While again the stars their courses 
In the azure heavens trace, 
And fair Luna's silv'ry radiance 
Softly falls on every place. 

Then the god of dreams, great Morpheus, 
Weirdly weaves a witching thrall 
To delude his doting subjects 
That their hopes shall true befall; 
Pours from horn of seeming plenty 
Lavish love and wealth for all. 



On July Fourth* 



O, day of liberty ! 
Eacli year may tliy return 
Still find ns fondly burn 
Incense at freedom's sbrine ! 
Still let our songs arise 
Unto the domed skies, 
Lauding this day of Tbine, 
Giver of liberty ! 

O, dawn of liberty! 
Tlie stars illume tbe nigbt, 
But fade, touched by tbe ligbt 
Of morning's golden flame; 
Faint was tbe glow that erst 
Suffused bope's sky till burst 
The glory forth, when came 
The dawn of liberty ! 

LoFC. 



99 



lOO Lays and Lyrics. 

O, cause of liberty! 
Ourselves we consecrate 
To keep inviolate 
This birthright of our land ! 
Though blood drops fall like rain, 
Dishonor shall not stain 
The record that we hand 
Down to posterity ! 



Goldcnrod* 



If, as tlie poets say, 

The goldenrod is sceptre to a queen, 

E'en to Titania, queen of fays, 

The reason for her choice is plain as day: 

For here is wealth of dainty green 

And golden drooping sprays, 

Supporting on fair taper stems 

Rare royal gems. 

Right regal are they to behold. 

Modeled in nature's mighty mold; 

Above the craftsman's cunning art. 

Profuse and perfect and apart, 

The richest gift of autumn's dower. 

This emblem of a sovereign power. 



101 



I02 Lays and Lyrics. 



Vacation^ 



Dwellers in a busy city, 

Country born and country bred, 

At tbis season lavisb pity 

On tbemselves for good days fled. 

Wbo sball paint anticipation 
And do justice to bis tbeme? 

Sense feels its intoxication, 

Subtile, rose-bued, like a dream. 

Like a dream of levitation, 
Swinging in tbe ambient air, 

Floats a picture of vacation, 
Hazy but exceeding fair. 

Early springs of youthful pleasure. 
We are hopeful still to find, 

Bubbling in unstinted measure, 
Ours to quaff, if so inclined. 



Vacation. 103 

Fancy limns in glowing outline, 
Scenes and memories that arouse — 

Birds tliat sing of love and sunshine 
O'er a nest in apple boughs; 

Berries that are turning scarlet 

On the bushes by the brook; 
And the squirrel, noisy varlet, 

Scolding from his covert nook. 

Fish that lie full snugly waiting 

For the angler's patient pains ; 
Leaves by breezes kept vibrating, 

Grass grown lush from summer rains. 

And the full blown heads of clover, 
And the marshaled ranks of corn; 

And the dense wheat bending over, 
Kipe, contented to be shorn. 

'Tis a paradise elysian. 

Consecrated, but beware ! 
Ye that seek again admission. 

Disappointment lurketh there. 



I04 Lays and Lyrics. 

Ye shall find youth's sun once gleaming 
Long hath set beneath the west, 

While the moon of memory beaming 
Throws uncertain light at best. 

Joys of life, illusive vision, 

Lie behind or just before ; 
Mem'ry and anticipation 

Meet the present nevermore. 



Thistledown* 



Light plaything of the wanton air! 

Beloved of any windy gust, 

Whose wings aethereal bear 

Thee higher than perception's range, 

As though unto some goal unknown, 

Some port beyond the sunlit skies: 

Yet not a navigator bold. 

But captive to the ravager, 

Thy state elated; soon full soon 

His fancy fed, his whim gone by, 

He doth allow thee nothing loth, 

A-weary of wild wanderings. 

Despoiled of silken gossamers. 

To pillow in thy mother's breast. 

To reach thy bourne on earth at last. 



105 



io6 Lays and Lyrics. 



Accused. 



To Nature's liigli court, let us hale 
Jack Frost, tlie crafty fellow; 
He does some good all must admit 
In toucliing things up "just a bit;" 
He paints the Pumpkin family yellow; 
And young Miss Apple rosy-red, 
Is pinched by him, in sport 'tis said, 
Till she has grown quite mellow. 

But now there's blood upon his trail, 
And forest trees are grieving; 
Their children wee are smitten, slain 
By thousands, and betray the stain 
Mad murder has been leaving; 
And proof presumptive points to him. 
Seen last within the woodlands dim 
When ^N^ight her spell was weaving. 



Thanksgiving;. 



Once in each busy year, 

A figure sweet and saintly cometli here 

To tell the beads of blessing o'er awhile; 

She hath for joyousness a winsome smile, 
For woe and suffering a gracious tear. 

In holy pledge she oft 

The sacrament of mem'ry lifts aloft 

And all that in its unction high partake 
Feel noble yearnings in their souls awake 

Like heavenly harmonies low and soft. 

On penitential breath, 

Prayer's incense mounting upward from beneath 

Is by her garnered into clouds which shed 

Absolving drops upon each humble head. 

Low-bowed before the Lord of life and death. 

107 



io8 Lays and Lyrics. 

Kind Presence, one would fain 

In the gnest chamber of his heart detain 

Always thy vision fair and full of cheer; 

So should His life thy standard year by year 
In grateful fulness measure and attain. 



"Watch-night Toasts 



In ancient France, in feudal France, 
Subservient to king and priest, 
A custom strange they did employ: 
When monarchs died, their heralds cried 
And straightway lamentation ceased; 
"Le Eoi est mort, vive le Koi.'' 

Their kings have flown and useless grown 
This phrase to them; so one can take 
Or change its form with conscience clear. 
The sacred rite of our watch-night 
At any rate full shrift would make; 
^^The year is dead, long live the year.'' 



109 



no Lays and Lyrics. 



"Watch-ni^ht i900. 



Soft ! For clocks click warning, ere tkey strike, 
And the Old Year lies a-gasping like 
As his lease of life were briefest space. 
See the change is coming o'er his face 1 
Last of a hundred and best was he, 
Though his predecessors were fair to see; 
All born to the purple, though and through 
Their veins went coursing the bluest "blue," 
Conies now Death's angel to pluck as fee 
The choicest of this family tree; 
Death took his ancestors, one by one. 
When their fleeting sands had likewise run 
'No good nor greatness can respite buy; 
When the hour ends, must this Old Year die. 



Watch-night 1 900. 1 1 1 

Lo ! A wheeze and a whirr and the clock 
k^trikes; the death watch perceives with a shock 
That the Old Year majestic, serene, 
Must be reckoned as one that hath been. 
All hearts are sad and many's the tear 
Over his "timely," untimely bier. 
Hark! 'Tis the bells! :N'ot a doleful note. 
But joyous each clanging, quiv'ring throat; 
No knell for the dead of kingdom shorn, 
But greeting glad for a new king born, 
A New Year blushing with hope and praise; 
In his hands, the scroll of coming days, 
Unmarred by sorrow with tristful blots 
Nor tainted by wrath with darker spots; 
But white and pure and stainless as snow — 
God grant his record remaineth so. 



112 Lays and Lyrics. 



Per Centum* 



Time is a clieniist: if one cares to stop 
Before the vials in Ms crowded shop, 

They stand one hundred in a row; 
Each row upon a shelf; each shelf a top 

Another, making goodly show. 

One vial fresh from distillation fine, 

His hand but now has added to the line. 

Awaiting it; cob webbed and stained, 
Brimfnl, ranged side by side, the ninety-nine 

Have thus their rounded number gained. 

His hoary head, his wrinkle-seamed face, 
With zeal undimmed and diligence apace, 

The master bends full anxiously 
Above retort and crucible to trace 

The combinations that shall be. 



Per Centum. 113 

As drop by drop, the mixture doth distill 
And one by one the vials slowly fill, 

By long-drawn process as of yore: 
Reflect: ye see the first but may not tarry till 

The hundredth full runs brimming o'er. 

^'^O Time, from labor endless now refrain 
And deign illumination to man's brain. 

In answer to a query. Say 
What do the vials of the years contain 

Of worth that passes not away?" 

For one brief moment ceased the heavy task. 
And lifted was the wonted mystic mask; 

His robe of magic backward fell; 
His eye flashed fire as though it wished to ask 

Who questioned or forbade his spell. 

Then mute, but kindlier, with show of cheer 
He pointed out a caldron boiling near. 

Where mingled as they downward fell, 
Joy's drops or Sorrow's that betoken fear. 

Or pain, or sympathy right well. 



114 Lays and Lyrics. 

'Nor were there lacking jets of darker hue, 
From streams tliat vengeful War and Crime 
renew; 

Shades crimsoning with baleful cast 
The bitter lees, a ghastly residue, 

In many vials of the Past. 

Say shall those to be filled thro' coming years 
Betray component parts of blood and tears? 

Najy inference so dark denies 
The springs of Faith that overflow all fears; 

The Blood of Christ that clarifies. 



m:^%nxxc5. 



115 



Apostrophe to Liberty Bell. 



O Silent Bell ! 
ISTo more tlie expectant throng 
Shall to tliy summons list; 
1^0 more follow tliy call 
To crowded Senate liall 
Where eloquent lips 
Proclaim — denounce 
The oppressor's wrong. 

From thy cracked side 

'Now no alarum sounds. 

The ears thou smot'st are dust. 

ISTo bellman now awaits 

"With bated breath 

The bidding of a child 

To ring the knell of thrones 

And doom of empires. 

117 



1 1 8 Lays and Lyrics. 

Thy memory lives ! 

Yea sweeter than cathedral chimes 

Thy matin call 

Roused sons of liberty 

In every clime; 

Bade Despotism tremble; 

The reign of right restored. 

The glad world heard thy peal, 

Proclaiming liberty: 

Trance and the Fatherland 

Drew freer breath; 

Even the Czar 

Broke the serf's chain. 

Melodious Bell! 

Thy voice is silent nevermore; 

The rolling years 

Add swelling cadences 

To thy great theme; 

Thy spirit fills the earth, 

Eebukes misrule and chaos, 

And, from the patriot's heart, 

Evokes anew the prayer, 

"Give Liberty or Death." 



Baptism by Fire. 



Wlien is the recruit a soldier, and wliere does 

lie get the name? 
;N'ot till he plnnges in battle, and gropes 'mid its 

smoke and flame; 
'Not till begrimed with powder and, facing the 

bnllets' mad hail 
He feels in his heart the courage that doth not 

flinch or fail. 

So to the altar of conflict must each candidate 

be led, 
From the serried ranks of the living, about to 

become the dead; 
And the font baptismal that standeth upon that 

altar rude 
Is filled to overflowing with his foes' and his 

fellows' blood. 

119 



I20 Lays and Lyrics. 

The ancient sign of the Paschal priest upon the 

Jewish door 
Is the mark the God of strife shall give, the 

crimson sign of gore, 
That the recruit, being once baptized in battle 

smoke and flame, 
Hath been rechristened "soldier" thus and is 

worthy of the name. 



Thackeray's Tribute^ 



It was strange tliat, in a savage forest of 
Pennsylvania, a young Virginian officer should 
fire a shot and waken up a war which should 
last for sixty years and of all the myriads en- 
gaged in the vast contest, leave the prize of the 
greatest fame with him who struck the first 
blow — from ''The Virginians.'^ 



Heroes of fable, blindfold led by fate, 
Shadows of splendid unreality. 
Your mythic deeds, which Fiction doth narrate, 
Are not so strange as those which Destiny, 
'By Providence o'erruled and guided on, 
Allotted as the task of Washington. 



121 



122 Lays and Lyrics. 

"When, at the call of duty, for his king, 
He struck War's opening prelude in the wild 
Of Pennsylvania — that his act would bring 
On conflict dire for sixty years, a child 
Had guessed as soon as he; that he would free 
His native land from that same king, he dreamed 
^ot of it; E'ay that his own name should be 
Forever linked with liberty had seemed 
An idle speculation. 

Forth he went 
Unpanoplied to battle for the right: 
He did his best and rested well content; 
And lo, when smoky war, which hindered sight. 
In doubtful conflict over land and sea. 
Had lifted, he stood foremost in the van. 
As noblest of that true nobility, 
Whom Honor crowns with radiant light, 
A victor in the cause of common man. 



The Modern Minotaur^ 



Througlioiit tlie ^"^Siibliine Porte," in name sub- 
lime, 
Run riot Eapine, Murder, Lust and Crime ; 
But vengeance bideth God's good time. 

Until its ripening fullness burst. 
Still Despotism drags ber slimy trail, 

And bids fanaticism, at its worst, 
O'er helplessness prevail. 

As yet unglutted with Armenian gore. 
The tigerish Turk his quarry there forbore, 
And turned his savagery to Greta's shore; 
Sought to revive his stale repeated play 
Of feigned disorders at the Christian's hands. 
Who, by his hellhounds, should be brought to 

bay 
Upon empurpled sands. 

123 



124 Lays and Lyrics. 

While all the Powers, so great in trade, 
In armies, navies, gnns, were yet afraid. 
By unreal shadows sore dismayed; 

Lo! From that land, whose dust is noble 
dead. 
Where Homer's song or Sappho's soared high. 

Defiance starts, with warlike tread. 
Raising a battle cry: 

"Greece will uphold her kindred and her faith. 
And, for their rights, do battle unto death. 
See ! From its ancient honored sheath, 

Our hands do pluck the gory steel 
That smote the Persian host with craven fear; 

!N^ow Turkish hordes that self-same stroke 
shall feel 
Per Duty's path is clear." 



The Modern Minotaur. 125 

!None list that cry heroic but to praise. 

Who deem that Providence can find out ways 

Through man's most tangled maze; 

Though, from the Orient, the bay resound 
Of War's grim pack, unleashed for the fight; 

Yet Peace, which doth with Murder foul com- 
pound. 
Is ghastlier to the sight. 

That monstrous myth, the fabled Minotaur, 
Was but a prototype of Turkish power, 
All insatiate to devour. 

And now the blood of suffering innocence 
Which stains Armenian snow and Cretan dale 

Hath, from this man-beast, prayed deliverance 
To God too long to fail ! 



126 Lays and Lyrics. 



After Defeat* 

The dervisli prays: 

"Allah, hast Thou forsaken the one true creed? 

Thou gavest our host a spoil to the dogs of infidel 

breed ! 
We prayed our thirst for Christian blood might 

again be satisfied, 
As, at Khartoum, it once had been when the 

Christian Pasha died — 
Died, but dying no fear of death was seen in 

his splendid eyes. 
Did gracious Allah welcome him who died as 

the Moslem dies? 
Did Allah Almighty covenant, won by his dying 

smile. 
To give for his, our heart's warm blood that its 

flow should stain the Mle? 



After Defeat. lay 

O Allah ! if Thou avengest, it surely hath been 

enough, 
Since Azrael, swinging wide his sword, hath 

smitten us most rough 
^t Ferkeh and at Omdurman, till our dervish 

host is dust 
'On the battle's crimsoned threshing floor; Thou 

art our only trust. 
And if Thy favor hath been withdrawn, right 

gladly would we die, 
Oiir bones shall bleach on Egypt's sand and mock 

at her brazen sky ; 
Our souls untouched by the bullet's wrath and 

unsmirched by the sword, 
Shall tenant Paradise in bliss, for Allah must 

keep His word." 



128 Lays and Lyrics. 



Hobson and His Men* 



'Tis well to grant fair meed of praise 

To daring deeds of bygone days, 

]^or slight the worth of Homer's sires 

Or Froissart's doughty knights and squires; 

But to the dead heroic scroll 

'Tis good to add the living roll. 

Let honor's beaming sun arise, 

The age of heroes never dies ! 

Aye ! Let it shine and blazon forth 

A deathless deed of matchless worth. 

In full-orbed glory set the eight 

Who dauntless dared a grewsome fate. 

Would that old Froissart's prose were mine, 

Or better, Homer's strain divine. 

To hold forever up to view 

The fame of Hobson and his crew ! 



Hobson and His Men. 129 

Within the frowning batteries' range, 
As to parade, sight passing strange, 
They steadfast steered unmindful on, 
Albeit ev'ry Spanish gun 
Barked death — unmoved still, although 
They knew torpedoes lay below; 
And on her greatest trip and last 
The Merrimac unscathed passed. 

The channel, leading to the bay. 

Had such a narrow, torturous way 

A vessel scraped the rocky ledge. 

And toiling slow would onward wedge. 

The goal of which they went in quest 

Was at that channel's narrowest; 

They reached and stopped their laden boat. 

Then sunk her down the harbor's throat. 



130 Lays and Lyrics. 

The namesake of the rebel ram 
Serves well her country for a dam, 
And holds the hostile ships in pound, 
If they would pass, they run aground. 
To starve or yield alternatives 
The sunken vessel grimly gives. 
To yield or starve, and Spanish pride 
On this dilemma must decide. 

Where Morro's keep confronts the wave, 
Lie those enchained, whom, being brave, 
Despoiler death refused to slay. 
Soon should a grateful country pay 
A kingly ransom, exchange ten 
Or hundredfold for Tlobson's men. 
Too narrow Morro's dungeon bars 
For heroes of the stripes and stars. 



The Boer's Rifle* 



Trouble overshadows Transvaal 

And the Orange River state; 
For the cloud of war is low' ring 

And the foeman's might is great: 
But with firm-fixed resolution, 

And with courage, odds can't stay, 
See the Boer takes his rifle, 

(That has been the Boer's way.) 

For 'tis written, he has read it, 
In the Book that teaches Right, 

That the swift shall not win always 
l^OT the strong prevail in fight. 

He believes the God of Battles, 
God of Ancient Israel, 

Power hath to smite or succor. 

Power hath to lift or fell. 

131 



132 Lays and Lyrics. 

His whole hist'ry in the Southland 

Is a comment on that text ; 
For he left for wilds his country 

When the yoke of England vexed — 
Left, and in the regions northward, 

He a doughty pioneer 
Faced the desert and the Zulu, 

Asked no favor, felt no fear. 

Free, and of a race of freemen. 

Liberty is as his breath, 
England would restrict his freedom; 

He shall fight her to the death 
If she try to trim and cozen. 

She shall meet the freeman's curse ; 
She must make his land a desert, 

She must slay, ere she coerce. 



The Boer^s Rifle. 133 

Let her not forget how dauntless 

To the Transvaal he "trekked/' 
N^or, when storming Hill Majuba 

How his deadly rifle cracked; 
It hath kept its olden timbre; 

It hath still the fatal range; 
If the English legions suffer, 

'T would be nothing new or strange. 

Is it worth thy while, O England, 

For the sake of Boer gold 
To destroy a vineyard's owner 

As King Ahab did of old? 
And remember when you seek him, 

'Tis a lion brought to bay; 
While the Boer has his rifle. 

He is not an easy prey. 



134 Lays and Lyrics. 



War in NataL 



Smoke from cannon lingers, !N"atal, 
O'er the kopje and the veldt; 

And a conflict, dire and fatal, 

Through thy length and breadth is felt. 

War with appetite nnsated, 

Worshiped once as God by Rome, 

Still with fury unabated. 
Brings his desolations home. 

Saxons fight for lust of conquest 

To extend their strength and throne; 

Boer foemen bravely contest. 

Struggling but to hold their own. 

Thy past, iRatal, doubtless knew 
Thee as place of tribal fight ; 

Kaffir warring with the Zulu, 
Black forerunners of the white. 



War in Natal. 135 

For a thousand years of training 

Are but as an empty boast; 
Writings on the sand remaining, 

Till the tide shall lave the coast. 

Till the tide of passion turning 

Brings a flood of savage force; 
Then the nations, fair peace spurning, 

Have to brutishness recourse. 

Have the ages only taught us 

That one race must domineer, 
And the rest crouch, whipped and sullen, 

Servile slaves to whining fear? 

« 
IsTay, O England, read the hist'ry 

Of great Athens and forbear; 

Kead of Varus and the Germans, 

For thy future, have a care. 



136 Lays and Lyrics. 



Return of Peace. 



All hail the olive branch, borne to the ship of 
state ! 
Leonine lately seemed the nation roused; yet 
now 
Her countenance turns lamb-like as she doth 
await, 
To greet her sons returning to the shop and 
plough, 
From E^orth and South, from East and West, 
they poured. 
When she had called their aid and bade them 
take the sword. 



Return of Peace. 137 

The din of battle o'er the blood-stained field hath 
ceased; 
The smoke of conflict by the winds is wafted 
thence ; 
The cry for vengeance (strong it was) hath been 
appeased. 
'Tis great, as conq'rors to condone a foe's 
offence ; 
'Tis greater still not to betray the hopeful trust 
Of hapless peoples, who have found deliverers 
just. 
"Peace hath her victories/' her Sabbath bells 
peal high, 
Although their chimes sound joyous, voicing 
naught but mirth, 
Y.et hearts bereaved by war's ravages passed by, 
Are minded of their losses sore and tears 
afresh burst forth. 
No festival can still their mourning for the dead, 
Or change to drops of joy the bitter tears they 
shed. 



138 Lays and Lyrics. 

The gentle touch of time alone may soothe such 
grief. 
Oh ! nation, triumphant and strong in all thy 
pride, 
Bow humbly down, nor cease within thy heart's 
belief 
And creed of creeds to cherish duly those who 
died 
On land and sea ; the threefold priceless legacy 
Of honor, love and life they gave to thee. 



^onuzts. 



139 



ON ART. 

I. 

Wlio is the perfect sculptor? Who can show 
Such skill in modeling as fashions warm 
His subject and presents a faultless form, 
With beauty radiant, with life aglow? 
Artists have dreams, but dreams that come will 

go, 
Surpassing human power to make them stay. 
As entities enshrined in stone or clay; 
E'en while conception burns, they melt like 

snow. 

Once only was the aim of sculpture hit, 

And that was when the dew of morning lay 

Upon creation; then a Hand took clay 

And shaped it and a Breath breathed into it 

Perfection, over which God keeps control, 

^^And man," erst clod, "became a living soul." 

141 



142 Lays and Lyrics. 

n. 

One finds no fitting praise for melody; 
Fair terms tliat otherwhere form rounds to reach 
To eulogy sublime, fail here of speech; 
If heart-beats, rythmical with ecstasy, 
Were coined in words, then could a mystery 
Be solved ; if deepest feeling were not dumb. 
Then might Art's mightiest, indeed, become 
Translatable, but that may hardly be — 

Because the Voice of dim eternities, 
"With meanings infinite, to ev'ry soul, 
Through music speaks; harmonies roll 
Tumultuous, like waves o'er troubled seas. 
Where souls are silent ships that feel a force. 
And by it dimly shape their onward course. 



On Art. 143 

III. 

The builder, striving to unite both use 
And beauty, finds in I^ature precious clews, 
That followed guide his art, and if he lose 
Them, then is Art the loser; for abuse 
Degrades; let him scorn baseness and refuse 
To act ignobly — make the sky inlaid 
With stars his dome, forests his colonnade. 
Mountains his spires, E'ature herself his muse: 

So nourished, greatness greater growth allows, 

Till man in miniature shall reflect 

Him, unto whom in rev'rence genius bows, 

The Master-builder, worthy of respect; 

God's universe is but a greater house, 

And Deity a nobler architect. 



144 Lays and Lyrics. 

lY. 

How wonderful is palpitating light, 
As seen in sunset's interplaying liues, 
Tliat manifold overlap, ere shrouding night 
Hath swallowed up their golds and grays and 

blues 
Artists, if artists true they he, refuse 
To make of Art an idle thing; for right 
Of entrance to God's thought they strive and 

lose 
Themselves o'ercome with rapturous delight. 

Fair vision is of soul and sense combined, 
And who aspires to touch her holy lips 
To prayer and vigil should be all resigned — 
To such she doth unveil Apocalypse: 
While Labor wooing finds her not unkind. 
Sloth shall not kiss her dainty finger tips. 



On Art 145 

Y. 

Sweet Poesy, interpreter of life, 

Begotten of conceit and fantasy 

Thine is a voice replete in melody; 

The pipes of peace, the clarions of strife, 

Are thine, and strains with high-flown meaning 

rife. 
Emblazoning truth in fadeless imagery ; 
The outer and the inner worlds agree. 
And show agreement in all forms of life. 

God, finishing creation's task, approved 
The results "good," and poets but repeat 
In echoed chorus, faint and far-removed. 
Indorsement: Though oft at fault and incom- 
plete, 
Yet is thy aim sublime, O, Art beloved ! 
Who follows thee might e'en deem failure sweet. 



146 Lays and Lyrics. 



ON LOVE. 

I. 

A Troubadour. 



Slie was a higli-born dame of France, 

Descendant of the ancient kings, 

Who kissed a hunchback troubadour 

That lay asleep. She deemed perchance 

She should explain that deed 

Lest Scandal on swift wings 

Bear misreport of her: 

(Her ladies' looks showed there was need). 

So in a voice, clear as the strings 
From which sweet harmonies arise 
When troubadours extemporize 
Their songs of heavenly grace, 
She said: "N^ay, not his face, 
I kissed the soul that sings." 



On Love. 147 

II. 

Tlie bee that makes and stores does never tire 
Of honeyed sweets ; preach not satiety 
To him: Daily he sips; daily Desire 
Unsurfeited a summoner shall be 
His banquet to renew. He feasts with glee, 
Tho' shiv'ring Winter blocks his hive outside ; 
He tastes the clover head, the blooming tree, 
The scented mint, where once he revelled wide. 

Let spendthrift Love learn to be provident: 
Fragrance and blossom must in time take wing; 
But, if uncloyed, unselfish, and content. 
The soul contain the unspoiled sweets of Spring, 
'No accidents of Death or mournful Change 
From bliss can sever it or qui^.e ^stnRg^» 



148 Lays and Lyrics. 

III. 

O Love, my Love, come now and let ns stray 
O'er fallow fields, once green, now crisp and 

sere. 
Or thro' the wood whose Joseph-coat (its shed- 
ding near). 
Betrays the hectic hues of swift decay; 
E'en so, my love, sigh not nor turn away 
To conjure memories of vanished Spring — 
To love, all seasons consolations bring; 
Love lets no yesterday outweigh to-day. 

If one have but Love's vision to discern, 
Sad Autumn, Winter hoar, and Summer sweet, 
Vie with blithe Spring to render joy complete; 
Each season, being ministrant in turn, 
Stints not the measure of Love's brimming 

cup — 
Oft as 'tis quaffed, as oft again fills up. 



Greatness* 



At how mucli cost of time and thought, 

Earth's wise and great have wrought 

To bring perfection from the disarray 

Of undrilled notions; to assay 

Mind's hidden ores, chaotic, rude. 

And from their shapeless mass and crude, 

By delvings patient and untold 

At last to draw the refined gold ! 

There is no measure adequate — ■ 

To gauge, no power to estimate ! 

By untried paths, o'er hights unsealed 

The great ascend; weaklings had failed, 

But, tutored in detraction's code. 

They cry: ^'How easy was the road." 



149 



150 Lays and Lyrics. 



Washington, 

Fame is a mistress fickle : Oft she sliows 

To living wooers lier most kind regards ; 

Whom dead, with haste indecent, she discards 

For newer loves; but her affection goes 

To worth, and, when it passes hence she knows 

Affliction deep; in garb of widowhood 

She is chief mourner for the great and good. 

And vaunting virtue, loud her trumpet blows. 

Our "Washington sued not to Fame, but him 
She wooed; her winsome smile and words that 

burned 
A character less fixed and true had turned, 
But he remained impassive; in the dim 
Perspective of the years, his image stands 
Colossus-high, so fashioned by her hands. 



Alaska's Gold. 



What miser cunning did inspire old Earth 
To hide beneath the icy shield of Death 
That ore overmuch desired by vain man? 
Lo! underneath the glacier's marble glare 
Lies that which means to him the luxury 
Of summer lands, the lap of wanton ease, 
The abject envy of his fellow-man. 
"No matter, then, though piercing northers blow, 
Their sword-like keenness whetted on the snow, 
That never melting mantles treeless plains; 
Though Fate doth like a dragon guard with cold. 
With hunger, and with outlaw violence; 
Still doth his ardent thirst drink danger doAvn, 
So great indeed hath grown his greed of gain. 



151 



152 Lays and Lyrics. 



Count Leo Tolstoy* 



TliOTi, Tolstoy, leonine in face and name, 
In courage not discounting name and face. 
Hast patient borne tlie burdens of disgrace 

Unmerited — liast suffered blame and sbame. 

The futile interdicts of Shame and Blame, 
Tiie cruelties and spites of jealous Hate, 
From weaklings, ruling over church and state, 

Who try to dim the glory of thy fame: 

But they shall fail and thou mayst be serene; 

Press on, thy crowning time is just ahead; 

When thou art safely numbered with the 
dead. 
Thy grandeur living shall be known and seen; 

The virtues of the dead are not attaint; 

Within the tomb, thou shalt be czar and saint. 



translations. 



153 



To Licinius* 

[Horace, Book II, Ode 10.] 

If thou, Licinius, wouldst more happily 

Make voyage on life's sea, 
Do not forever crowd full sail and keep 

Far out upon the deep, 
l^or tempestrfrightened, overcautious creep 

Too nigh an unkind shore: 
He who prefers the golden middle path 

Securely goes and hath 
Exemption from the hovel's pinching cares, 

The castle's envied snares; 
i^or Midas' mad intoxication shares, 

Misled by Folly sore. 



155 



156 Lays and Lyrics. 

Full oft huge pines are targets for tlie blast 

That tossing hurries past; 
And lofty citadels a tumbling down 

In heavier ruins frown ; 
Riven and seared, the mountain's barren crown 

Betrays the lightning's strokes. 
The soul that hath due preparation made 

By change is undismayed — 
Still hopes, when adverse Fate is at her worst, 

That all shall be reversed. 
And prosperous hath fears. Winters accurst 

Jove sends and eke revokes. 



To Licinius. 157 

Tliongli all be well at present, wait and see; 

111 it will sometime be. 
Betimes a minstrel, with bis lyre's sweet voice, 

Apollo bids rejoice 
Tbe Muse erst sleeping, nor with clanging noise 

Forever twangs his bow. 
Keep stout thy heart; be brave; prepare. 

Lest, sailing unaware 
On narrowed straits, thy vessel strike and break. 

'Tis wise likewise to take 
In sail too flapping-full for safety's sake 

■\Yhen f av'ring breezes blow. 



158 Lays and Lyrics. 



Carpc Diem*. 

[Horace, Book I, Ode 11.] 

'Tis impious to seek to know what fate 
The Gods allot to us, Leuconoe, 
Nor shouldst thou dabble in astrology; 
'Tis better far in patience to await 

Whatever will be: Whether Jove hath in store 
To grant more winters, or shall make our last. 
The one which driveth now with angry blast 
The Adriatic 'gainst its rocky shore. 

Be wise ! Strain from thy wine impurity, 
And, in brief space, long hope curtail; ahead. 
E'en while we speak, begrudging Time hath fled; 
Seize on to-day, to-morrow may not be. 



^To a Coquette*'' 

[Horace, Ode 5, Book I.] 
Pyrrha, what slender youth, with perfumes 

moist bestrewn, 
Doth midst a bank of roses claim thee for his 

own 
Beneath some cavern roof? 
Thy yellow hair is tied for whose behoof? 

Such plainness marks thy beauty strong; and oft 

with pain, 
Thy lovers moan for broken troths, for worships 

vain: 
When thy wrath meets their gaze. 
Its buffets cruel strike with sore amaze. 



^S9 



i6o Lays and Lyrics. 

Who trusting now thinks tliee all-perfect as fine 

gold, 
xind deems in undisputed sway tliy charms to 

hold, 
Ignores the coquette's whim; 
Deceiving others, she deceiveth him. 

How fares the wretch who, on thy favors, would 

repose 
Yon sacred wall with painted, votive offering 

shows : 
My drippling garments see 
Hung up for N^eptune; I am saved from thee. 



"Winter at Rome. 



[Horace, Ode 9, Book I.] 

Tliou seest now Soracte, standing firm and fair, 
Deep-laden with a wintry weight of snow, 

A strain the groaning forests hardly bear: 
Sharp cold congealing stays the river's flow. 

Banish the frost and make the firelight shine 
With logs piled high; and better far for cheer, 

O master of the feast, draw unmixed wine 
Of Sabine vintage, best in its fourth year. 

Leave to the Gods all else, the gracious Gods 
Whose care has driven out together winds 

And heat with which they war; no cypress nods 
iN'or ancient ash itself a-quiv'ring finds. 



161 



1 62 Lays and Lyrics. 

Cease asking wliat to-morrow liatli in store 
But what of good may liap from Goddess 
Chance, 

Account it luck; reject love nevermore, 

O ! youth, nor shun the happy choral dance. 

Whilst absent from the lustrous head the sign 
Of vexing gray, still let the parks and walks 

Be sought at the appointed time; resign 
"No whit of the subdued, nocturnal talks. 

And now the pleasant laugh, not least of charms, 
Betrays the maiden, hidden from her love. 

Who rends the bracelet from unwilling arms 
Or ring from finger sly, love's token trove. 



The Revelers* 

I. 

[From the Greek of Alcseus.] 

Outside the Zeus-sent storm from Heaven falls, 
And snow heaps up, and streams of water freeze : 
Defy the wintry blast in banquet halls; 
Heap high the fire nor stint the wine whose lees 
Smack honey-sweet, and let each head close- 
pressed. 
Gain from the woolen cushions warmth and rest. 

II. 

To yield one's soul to low desire, 

There never was nor shall be need: 

So Bacchus ivy-crowned, 

Thy choicest wine is poison dire 

To those that do not Prudence heed. 

And drink but to be drunken. 

163 



164 Lays and Lyrics. 

III. 

Come place around our necks 
Your woven wreaths of anise ! 
Come, pour tlie perfume sweet 
As seemetli best upon us! 

IV. 

Wouldst plant a shrub or tree 

In fond expectancy 

That it shall yield for thee a golden store? 

Kemember then no other comes before 

The many-clustered vine 

"Whose blood is royal wine. 

Y. 

Let us begin to drink; why wait 

Till lamps are brought? Descending day 

Lacks but a finger's breadth of night. 

Pass round, kind youth, the well-wrought cups, 

The beakers great in depth and brim. 

The son of Zeus and Semele 

Gave care-dispelling wine to men; 

So mixing well, come pour and fill 

Let each its fellow cup close follow. 



Rcttim of Sprmgf* 



[Horace, Ode 4, Book I.] 

Return of spring with west wind heals 
The ravages of winter's cold ; 
From out their docks the ships are rolled 

To bathe again their thirsty keels. 

The herd has left its stalls secure; 
The ploughman does not pass his time 
Indoors ; not now with hoary rime, 

One sees the meadows jeweled o'er. 

Beneath the full moon overhead, 
Cytherean Venus leads her bands; 
See E"ymphs and Graces joining hands 

And shaking Earth in cadenced tread. 



165 



t66 Lays and Lyrics. 

To pleasure's gladsome play, her spouse, 
Swart Yulcan, pays but little heed; 
His ^prentices the Cyclops need 

His care: to duty stern, he bows. 

'Tis meet to bind the myrtle round 
One's oily locks, to wear the sweet. 
The firstling blooms that coyly greet 

Fair Spring from out the loosened ground. 

'Tis well by sacred rite that man 
Should offer in the shady wood 
The lamb or kid most choice and good, 

A savory sacrifice to Pan. 

Halls of the rich, huts of the poor 
Receive alike Death's dreaded call: 
Gay Sestius, life's fleeting all 

Makes lengthy hope too insecure. 



Return of Spring. 167 

Soon shall thy day pass into night; 
Soon shall thy spirit, like as one 
Of thy ancestors dead and gone — 

To Hades take its exiled flight. 

Once there, thou wilt not care to be 
The banquet's lord ; thou wilt admire 
!N^o more fair Lycide; youth's fire 

Is quenched in Death's o'erwhelming sea. 



1 68 Lays and Lyrics. 



La Serenade* 

[From tlie Erencli of LeSage.] 

Heed, lady, while my feeble art 
Essays the passion of my heart, 
And searches earth and sea and air, 
For likeness to thy beauty rare. 

Like alabaster or like snow. 
Perfection on thy brow doth show; 
E'en Cupid, laughing at his task. 
Would gladly in thy favors bask. 

His far-famed bow stands not a chance 
Against th' archery of thy glance; 
The bolts shot 'neath thy eyebrows twain 
Smite swift and sure a hapless swain. 



La Seranade. 169 

Thou art Love's queen by right divine 
Thou art a jewel wondrous fine, 
The diamond of desire; thy spell 
Forbids thy lovers to rebel. 

One tribute more and I have done: 
Thy beauty is a star, a sun 
Of heaven's own; Lovers forlorn 
Adore afar thy golden morn. 



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